I’ve lingered too long in this box of despair, Bound by the chains of doubt and fear. But now I rise, with fire in my chest, No longer content with being less than my best.
The walls are crumbling, the light breaks through, A world of wonder calls, vibrant and new. I’ll soar on wings I never knew I had, Unleash my soul, and feel truly glad.
No more shadows, no more disguise, I’ll paint my dreams across the skies. For the power within is a boundless sea, And I am the storm – wild, fierce, and free.
Love is the messy, imperfect kind of magic— The kind that leaves dishes in the sink Because talking until 2 a.m. felt more important. It’s the way your voice cracks when you’re tired, But you still listen, because their words matter.
It’s the coffee made wrong but drank anyway, Because they tried, and trying is everything. It’s the laundry left unfolded on the couch, And the way you laugh when you trip over it.
Love is the quiet mornings, When the sun spills through the curtains, And you notice the way their hair sticks up, And you think, This is my person.
It’s the arguments that end in tears, But also in apologies whispered like prayers. It’s the way you learn to say “I’m sorry” And mean it, even when it hurts.
Love is the hand that reaches for yours In a crowded room, just to say, I’m here. It’s the way they know your favorite song, And play it when you’ve had a bad day.
It’s the scars they trace with their fingers, Not with pity, but with reverence, Because those scars are part of the story, And the story is why they stayed.
Love is the way they remember How you take your tea, Or the way they save the last bite Of dessert, just for you.
It’s the way they cry at movies, Even the bad ones, And the way you pretend not to notice, But you do, and it makes you love them more.
Love is the way they snore, And how you learn to sleep through it, Or the way they steal the blankets, But you let them, because they look so peaceful.
It’s the way they hold you When the world feels too heavy, And the way they don’t need to say a word, Because their arms say enough.
Love is the way they see you— Not as you are, but as you could be, And the way they help you get there, Without ever making you feel less than enough.
It’s the way they laugh at your jokes, Even the bad ones, And the way they make you laugh, Even when you don’t want to.
Love is the way they forgive you, And the way you forgive them, Because no one is perfect, But together, you’re close enough.
It’s the way they choose you, Every single day, Not because they have to, But because they want to.
Love is human. It’s messy, and flawed, and beautiful. It’s not a fairytale, But it’s real. And real is better.
Write about a few of your favorite family traditions.
1 We gather thrice a year for Barbecue night. Amazingly brothers, sisters, cousins, nephews, aunts and uncles abroad fly down for this occasion. Strange as it sounds, they fly down just for barbecue 😁😁.
2. We spend like crazy. I mean none of us is stingy. The moment we see someone who decides to be stingy, you will hear ‘and we are not like this in our family. Generosity is a tradition for us. Where did you see your own stingy nature?’ 😀
2024 came like a rushing wind, And I followed, chasing promises I couldn’t touch. I ran from pillar to post, Eyes wide, heart hopeful, But the answers always stayed just out of reach.
Life became my relentless teacher, Handing out lessons I never signed up for. Failure taught me patience, Heartache taught me strength, But the one thing I sought—it stayed hidden, A light flickering in the distance, Never close enough to grasp.
I’ve climbed mountains of ambition, Only to find the peaks empty. I’ve walked through valleys of despair, Hoping they held a treasure I couldn’t see. But all I found were questions, More questions than I started with.
Now the year is closing, And I am still searching. My feet are tired, my spirit worn, But there’s something about hope— It doesn’t let go, even when you want to.
Maybe the new year holds what I’ve been seeking. Maybe it doesn’t. But for now, I’ll keep moving forward, Because even though I haven’t found it yet, I know the journey is shaping me. And maybe that’s what I needed all along.
Ifedolapo Ogunniyi 